Daughter of the Saints
by Siren of the Sand
Summary: The boys want some down time after their latest hit, but when they meet a firey teenage girl who reminds them a bit too much of themselves, will they get their precious downtime? rated for usual MacManus lang. Post BDS:II, boys didnt get caught.


A.N.: This takes place post BDSII, but the boys weren't caught. I dont own BDS or the boys, though I wish I did... I do own Sara and Maria though.

The MacManus brothers once again found themselves walking around the South end of Boston. Bored and a little sore from their last hit, they wanted a bit of downtime from their job as the Saints.

"Connor? What are we ta do now? We were fired from the packin plant cause of yer dumb are we ta find another job?" Murphy asked, running a hand through his dark hair.

"We could ask Doc for jobs..." Connor replies, looking up in thought, hands shoved into his pockets.

"Ye-" Murphy was cut off as they caught the sound of a brawl in a near-by alley.

"C'mere MacManus! Let me punch your face in!" called a boys voice, not much older than 16 it seemed.

Murphy and Connor exchanged a look, "MacManus?"

"Do we have a cousin in America?" Connor asked.

"We dun have a cousin period." Murphy replied and stepped nearer to the alley.

The smacking noise of a punch making contact and the snapping of a nose was waht ultimatly made the boys turn the corner into the dirty alley. The boys were mortified and disgusted at the same time. Surrounded by five, older, more muscular boys, was a young, dark haired girl, her brown eyes flashing contempt and rage.

"I hope it hurt you fucking bastard!" she yelled at a boy on the ground, holding his nose, her hands were still in the ready position to punch.

"Goddamnit! My nose! Get her!" called the one on the ground.

However before they could reach her, Connor and Murphy had decided to interfere.

"Ok now, break't up. If this were a fair fight, between lads, t'wd be fine. But you lads are doin that which me brother and meself can'na agree. Yer about to beat up a lass. A wee one at that. Tis not right. Scram!" Murphy barked the last word. The teenage boys, upon seeing the older men and hearing the hinted threat, ran from the alley, one or two shoving the girl as they passed by her. When they were gone, all that remained was the girl and the brothers.

"Are ye ok lassie?" asked Connor, scanning to see if the boys had hit her.

"I'm fine." she said as she brushed off her clothing.

"What t'wer ye thinkin? Fightin a bunch of lads like that?" asked Murphy, stepping closer to the girl.

"I was thinking that they were smarmy bastards that need to be fucked up." she said, spitting her words angrily.

Connor waged a finger at her, "Cussins no fuckin good fer yer soul lassie. Where might we be escortin ye then?"

"No where. I don't need an escort." she glared at the boys and picked up her back-pack which was next to a dumpster. She began to walk away.

Despite her frosty refusal, the boys followed behind her.

"So who are ye anyway? We heard the lads callin ye MacManus. Tis that yer last name?" asked Connor who stood to her right.

"No. I hate that name." she said, glaring codly ahead.

The brothers shared a suprised look behind her head. "Why?" they asked in unison.

"MacManus," she spat, "Is the name of the bastard who left my mother alone and pregnant. He can rot in Hell." She then turned and walked up to a door, opened it, stepped in, then turned back to the brothers. "Go away." She slammed the door.

The boys turned away from the puzzle they had just met and walked back to their flat. They were both lost in thought and didn't speak till they were safely inside the house.

"Murph... do ya think it twas Da? Did he have an affair in America?" Connor asked his sibling.

"I dun know Conn. But I sure as hell am gonna find out." replied Murphy as he picked up the phone and called their dad in Ireland. "Da? Yea, it's Murphy. Yeah, no, Connors fine, Da, this will sound odd but.. did ye by any chance, have an affair here in America? No? ok, thank ye Da. Bye."

"So this new MacManus isn't our new sibling?" asked Connor from the boys couch.

"Nope." repied Murphy as he plopped down next to his brother. "But really, MacManus is no a common name. Who could her Da be?"

The brothers were silent for a few minutes.

"Connor?" asked Murphy suddenly as he turned pale, "When was the last time ye had, ye know, sex?"

Catching what his brother was suggesting Connor blanched. "About 16 years ago..."

Murphy put his head into his hands. "Same. Please to God dun say t'was Sara McKinnley."

"T'was..." Connor said, "I think we need ta get ta the bottom of this."

"Aye. Smecker and Bloom?" asked Murphy.

"Aye, Smecker and Bloom." Connor said and then picked up their phone.

"Hello? Smecker here." came the voice of "dead" FBI special agent Paul Smecker.

"Smecker, we need ye and Eunice ta do us a favor." said Murphy.

"Ooh, a favor, well what'll it be boys?" came a second voice. This time it was AWOL agent Eunice Bloom. As she and Smecker had gone into hiding together they decided it would be fun for them to live together as well.

"We need ye to look up who lives at," Murphy paused as he tried to remember the address of the house, " 239 street in Southie."

"2-3-9 street. Ya'll wait here and I'll have it in a jiffy." said Eunice, her voice getting softer as she walked away.

"So boys, wanna tell me what this is about?" asked Smecker.

"It might just be paranoia on our part," began Connor.

"But we might have a child." finished Murphy.

Smecker seemed to be in a stunned silence till Eunice returned.

"Here ya are boys. The current owner is Sara McKinnley, 32, lives there with her 15 year old, nearly 16 daughter Maria. Father not there, in fact, he's not even on the register." Eunice said.

"What be her number?Sara's..." asked Connor, dread in his voice.

"508-xxx-xxxx" replied Eunice, "Sugars, whats goin on?"

"The boys created a little spawn." replied Smecker.

"A spawn? A child? Are ya'll kiddin me? How? Who?" she asked, suprise in her tone.

"We dun know yet. Thank ye! Bye!" Murphy swiftly hung up. He then sat there, repeating Sara's number in his head.

"We're fucked." Connor stated, the heels of his palms pressed to his eyes.

"From yer mouth to Gods ears brother." Murphy replied. "I guess it's time ta call Sara..."

"Aye. I'll give ye 20 bucks ta be the one ta call an talk ta her.." Connor bribed, bringing out the money.

"Fuckin coward." Murphy called his brother, but took the money anyway. He dialed the number. "Hi, Sara? Aye, um, this is Murphy MacManus. Aye. Well, this may sound a wee bit out there, but, did we... have a lassie?" Murphy went pale at the response and fell backwards, Connor barely caught the phone.

"H-hello? Aye, this is Connor. Aye he's fine, but he fainted. So I take it you had his child? Oh, ye do not ken who her da be? Right. Aye, well, I have ta go. We'll call back. Aye. Bye." Connor replaced the phone onto the hook and promptly joined his brother in the realm of sleep.


End file.
